


Time Out

by tatooedlaura



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 04:25:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12522912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: Because sometimes you need to escape ...





	Time Out

She had five hideouts for when work overwhelmed: The Air and Space Museum planetarium, the Sculpture Garden fountain, the hot dog cart behind the FAA, Ford’s Theater or, when she was really in a mood, the Einstein statue.

The statue was about a 30-minute walk, depending on how much anger fueled her and he knew he hadn’t pissed her off that much so he ruled it out; they’d also eaten lunch only an hour before so he kyboshed the hot dog cart as well. Now narrowed down to three, he headed up to the lobby.

Asking the security guys to do a quick camera check of which door Scully exited from, he found out she left by Constitution Avenue not 10 minutes earlier, eliminating Ford’s Theater. Narrowing to the Sculpture Garden or Air and Space, he pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, heading towards the fountain first, deciding she’d probably want a little sunshine after a day of beratement in the basement.

And there she was.

Sitting amidst the tourists, a few feet from two small children splashing in the cool water, her suit gave her away, a gray smudge of peace at the center of plaid, neon, tennis shoes and suntans. Standing to the side of her, out of sight but probably not out of mind, he leaned against the lamppost cement base, deciding not to invade her quiet time just yet, apologies parked on his tongue, begging forgiveness not far behind.

Even from where he stood a good 15 feet back from her, he could see the tension in her neck, her back, the suit jacket slipping off as he voyeured, revealing freckled arms hidden too long for such beautiful weather. He really shouldn’t have let Skinner blame her for everything; 90% had been all him, the car, the house, the fire … he let her take a verbal beating because he was a selfish bastard with stupendous lapses of jackass.

Shifting six feet to the other post to see her better, he noticed her pantlegs rolled up and her feet in the water, her sensible shoes stacked on her lap for fear of liquid ruination. She was a wonder of nature and he was a fucking idiot, pure and simple.

Then he saw her take one surreptitious swipe at her cheek, his heart cracking on the spot. About to move towards her, grovel ‘til the end of time, she shook her feet, twisted to stand and padding across the cement in defiance of dirt, litter and chipped toenail polish, stopping seven feet from him, eyes meeting, shoulders setting in hard-formed determination. The stand-off would have continued through the crowd of people both watching and oblivious but Mulder did a thing.

A thing he did when he felt truly sorry for his actions.

A thing that he never knew twisted her soul, liquified her insides, sent her anger to the depths for its own peaceful contemplation until the next time he pissed her off.

He put his hands in his pockets.

He put his hands in his pockets, bit a millimeter of his lower lip and tilted his head at an undetectable to anyone but her angle. His mouth didn’t turn up in a crooked grin but remained a straight line, twinkling eyes non-existent, seriousness intensified by emerald green piercing gaze.

He did that thing he had no idea he knew how to do.

And she let her shoes dangle from her fingers, gazing back across the vast expanse as she walked towards him, footsteps deliberate, 16 inches gained with every movement, in front of him before either blinked.

“Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.”

Sliding her free hand down his arm, she pulled hand from pocket then tugged him back towards the water, “come put your feet in.”

“You still love me?”

The pressure on his palm told him everything and following blindly, as he always did when she led, he sat, pulled off shoes and socks and rolled up pants, matching her in style but definitely not grace, dropping a sock in the water in the process.

With a chuckle, she wrung it out and handed it back, “lay it out.”

“Are we staying here long enough for it to dry?”

Giving his thigh a quick squeeze, she tilted her head, finding the sun and closing her eyes, “possibly even longer.”


End file.
